


Among the Tall Grass

by Lonely_Lovely_Hobbit



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Awesome Balin, Awesome Bofur, Bilbo-centric, Hobbits, Multi, Protective Thorin, Sassy Bilbo, Sweet Bofur
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 11:33:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3118607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lonely_Lovely_Hobbit/pseuds/Lonely_Lovely_Hobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Okay so Bilbo is a little kid the company finds on the side of the road. He is really small and sickly but the others take care of him, and try to even out his behavior problems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Roads of the Shire

**Author's Note:**

> Bilbo is (in human years) around 3 or 4, however old that is for a Hobbit. it is after The Battle Of the Five Armies but didn't involve Bilbo & no one died

It wasn't a normal day in the Shire. Rain had poured onto Hobbiton with brutal force. The poor three foot hobbits could almost outrun a flood, but that was barely possible for anyone. Sadly, the hobbits always seemed to blame the rare, sickly-born children. So, when little scrawny Bilbo Baggins was born, fate had it, and later that day was the start of a rough frozen winter. 

Life is horrid for a sickly hobbit. They always end up at the wrong place at the wrong time, they always get blamed, and always scolded or beaten. This, for Bilbo, was the only life he knew. He was the 'accident' just waiting to happen. To top it off, he was adventurous. That for a hobbit, was frowned on by everyone. 

 

The morning sun shined through the little round window above little Bilbo's bed. Slowly, his eyes fluttered and open. Sounds of footsteps appeared from the other side of his bedroom door and he automatically tensed his small, frail frame. Belladonna, his mother, walked in and shook him gently.

"Bilbo, get up and ready for your lessons," she said softly. Then, she left.

Bilbo winced as he sat up. His scar-ed back ached and pleaded for ice but sadly, he knew no ice would come. Red gashes, no longer bleeding, striped his back and the skin around them was bruised an ugly purplish-green. He looked down at his bulky, clear outline of his ribs that bottomed out to his caved-in stomach. Walking over to a mirror, he inspected his face. The cheek bones stood out and his eyes were sunken and bruises ringed around them which made him look like a raccoon. The irises weren't bright and had a blood red ring around them while the 'whites' of his eyes were bloodshot. He sighed and pushed the skin around the corners of his lips to form a smile. The skin was rough like bark, very much unlike a healthy hobbit's skin should be. Tears of pain or disgust, he couldn't decide which, filled his eyes but didn't fall. He pushed them back and slipped into a pair of trousers. 

Bilbo couldn't wear shirts because they were always to big for him and they always got torn up and dirty when he went on his mini adventures. His mother didn't approve of his adventures but kept quiet when his father asked what he had did that day. His father never beat her, wouldn't even think about laying a hand on her. Sorrily, he would never hesitate to hurt Bilbo when something happen or he heard of the 'outings'. It sickened his mother to see, but alas, she couldn't do anything due to tradition of the sickly hobbits. 

 

Outside, the wind blew through Bilbo's long, untamed, wavy hair. Another trait of the sickly. Their hair was 'wavy' not curly. The dirt beneath his hairy feet was course but had the occasional pebble, not that it bothered him. He began walking down the road, going to his favorite spot. The edge of the Shire. 

 

 

The Edge of the Shire, for him, was a low wall of bushes and a dusty road. It was actually just an old trade route that was used by the Riders of the North when they had brought supplies during the Fell Winter. But to Bilbo, it was a way out. An escape. Everyday, he would try his luck and go just a little further down the road. He felt free, and out of danger. He started his usual walk. 

 

Down the road a few miles, was Thorin Oakenshield, king under the mountain and his relatives Balin, Dwalin, and Bofur. They were walking through, not really knowing where they're going. Thror and Thrain had died, his grandfather suffocated under the weight of gold and his father, no one knows. But they were gone. So, Thorin had set out with his kin to 'take a breather' as some would say.

"Hey, what is that?" Bofur interrupted the icy silence.

Up ahead on the road, walked scrawny, unhealthy Bilbo.


	2. On the Road

Bilbo sat down after a while. He reckoned he was a few feet from the place he sat the day before. To many who saw this little, scrawny hobbit sitting on the side of the road, he looked crazy. But to Bilbo, this, this was peace. It was in these moments he had that other feeling. Most times he was in pain, one feeling was physically, the other mentally. These moments made him feel, well, just a little hopeful. Sure, the ground was frozen and numbed his legs, and the wind pricked little needles into his skin but Bilbo didn't notice that. He was thankful to Mahal that he could come here each day and listen to his thoughts. Eventually, he would lay down and fall asleep listening to the wind whispering to the trees and the grass. 

Little did he know, after he closed his eyes, the King Under The Mountain and a few of his followers had came into view. But before he noticed them, his eyes shut softly and he was once again lost the world. 

 

Thorin had looked in the direction Bofur had pointed. He squinted intensely but couldn't make out more than a small lump in the difference.   
"I am not sure," he looked at Dwalin, "do you think it could be dangerous?"

Dwalin thought on the matter for a second as they kept walking. "Maybe, but until then I wouldn't think much of it." So Thorin nodded in agreement but struggled to hold back his curiosity. He smiled on the inside as his mind started to fill with things, questioning what it could be. Bofur took notice of the slight smirk on Thorin's cheek and smiled. He knew exactly what he was thinking.

 

As they neared little Bilbo, their smiles of curiosity turned into frowns of concern. They quietly walked over to him. Once they figured out that Bilbo's mind was elsewhere and drifting in peace, Balin spoke,   
"It it a hobbit. I saw a few once, but they're not like this. Not ever. They are bigger, and tan as dirt. This little one isn't like the others." He didn't have to continue. It was obvious the little hobbit had never seen a good day or know the feeling of a warm smile casting down on him. They knew he has never had a soft, wet cloth upon his brow when he had been sick. He has never had a soothing voice to calm him when nightmares cast through his sleep. And here was this little, sickly hobbit in front of them. The little thing never had a hair cut, a inch of skin cleaned (unless you count the times in the lake), or a wound bandaged. Their eyes widened when the walked behind the shirtless tiny boy and saw the bruised, infected, blood crusted gashes that streaked his little back. Upon further visionary observation, they could see little bits of the spine's vertebrae through the dried blood. 

"Thorin, what do we do?" Bofur spoke softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh guys, you're kinder than my friends (the ones I don't make up in my head)!!  
> thnx.


	3. Warmth

"Bofur, you and Dwalin find his folk, tell them he will not be returning." Thorin spoke quietly, trying to keep his voice as soft as possible. He looked at them as they nodded in agreement and took off towards the village. 

Thorin, who immediately started to think about little Fili and Kili back with Dis, was horrified at little Bilbo's condition. It hurt to see a little child, so sick and beaten such as he, all alone. He knelt down in front of Bilbo and very, very gently place a few fingers on Bilbo's shoulder and slowly shook him out of his trance. Two brownish green orbs flickered and opened, the iris dull and the 'white' bloodshot. Thorin knew instantly that, had Bilbo be healthy and happy, they would've clearly resembled pine tree bark with branches here and there. 

"Hello, little one" Thorin spoke, his voice only a small whisper. Hearing this, Bilbo's ear twitched and he sniffed. He stared at Thorin with great fear and curiosity, hoping, praying, he wouldn't hurt him. This made Thorin hold his hands up a little, in a surrendering like matter. 

"I will not hurt you, nor I ever think of such." He whispered. Obviously, Bilbo was completely threw off. No one had ever said such a thing to him. That said somethings but those were not nice to repeat. A little spark of awe danced around in his small forest-colored eyes. Thorin smiled softly, glee filling him knowing he was a little happy. 

Bilbo looked down and poked gently at his own chest. It felt weird. His shoulders started to hurt to sag, although they had never hurt to sag before. His small breaths weren't so heavy and quick, and they slowed into soft long breaths. The sudden rush of more oxygen made his brain less fuzzy and he could hear and see a little better than he could. Thorin noticed this and slowly picked him up, and set him into his lap, sitting onto the ground. Bilbo collapsed against his chest, Thorin's warmth engulfing him. 

Balin walked and sat in front of them and started to apply lotions and herbs to the immense gashes onto Bilbo's back. Bilbo's skin was cold as ice and made him frown. It broke his heart to see the poor child in a state such as this. It made his heart ache.

All of the sudden, Bilbo whimpered. Thorin and Balin immediately looked at him. Bilbo snuggled into Thorin's chest and whispered in a small, hoarse whisper.

"Warmth."


	4. The Shire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is part one of 2 of the Shire.

The road to the Shire was short. Warmth floated down from the sun but to Dwalin and Bofur, it felt as if they were walking through the hottest of deserts. It burned against their furs that rested on their shoulders. The morning had been freezing, and still is, but to them, their hatred and anger burned their eyes and sizzled their skin in the sun. Hurt, betrayed sweat dripped down the sides of their faces. 

Everyone knew that Dwalin had a normal side, a soft side (which he never showed), and a bad side that absolutely no one wanted to be on. The normal side had barely any tolerance, the soft side...well...(no one knew), and the bad side shows only when Dwalin was in battle, or something had to be done that wasn't going to end pretty. Bofur had only two sides everyone knew. A soft side, and a positive side. He never got easily angry, as he would use witty comments or positive elements of a situation to solve it. If anyone was in a bad mood, or depressed over something, they could go to Bofur. It was his third, completely unknown side that made him Thorin's other choice to go back to the Shire to pronounce Bilbo's leaving. Now, Bofur's third side shown through angrily through he skin and darkened his brownish green eyes. Dwalin liked this 'new profound' side of him, but to be honest, it scared him. He had no control over how this was going to turn out, but he wanted to be a part of it. Adrenalin poured though his veins and sharpened his vision. His peripheral vision let him see Bofur, marching along beside him. Bofur had a strong grip on his axe with one hand and his other hand on his dirk (dagger). This made him smile. Oh yes, he liked the certain side of Bofur.

 

Little Hobbit children stopped their playing almost instantly and looked at them, their eyes full of curiosity. They looked completely different from the scrawny, beaten Bilbo. Their eyes were bright, and their skin was clean. They looked happy, well fed, and content. Not like Bilbo. Bilbo looked broken, and then broken some more. Dwalin and Bofur exchanged glances, and soon Bofur knelt down in front of one of them and force some sort of a smile. 

"Do you know of the parents of a hobbit child? He is very sick and in bad health." He tried. The Hobbit child thought for a moment, and then little Bilbo came to mind. It sneered, 

"Yes sir," it giggled, "it is Mr. Bungo Baggins and Mrs. Belladonna. I dunno why they keep him. That stupid little idiot has hurt us enough." The child crossed it's arms and stuck it's nose up in the rudest way possible and marched off, pulling it's knees to waist height for each step. Bofur tightened his grip on his weapons, but Dwalin gently put his hand on his shoulder.

"It is just a child. It has been raised to hate." Dwalin whispered. Bofur stood and nodded briefly. That was his only answer.

 

It took a few other Hobbits to point the way to 'Mr. Bungo Baggins and Mrs. Belladonna'. They walked slowly up the road and paused at the round green door. Both of them took a breath and exchange glances before Dwalin leaned forward a little and knocked. A few moments later, the door swung open and there stood three foot, long brown haired Belladonna. She looked up with them, confusion spreading across her face as she had to tilt her head strictly upward to look at them. Her eyes widen at their tall muscular figures, long braided beards, and huge battle axes. Bofur stepped up a little, clearing his throat and makes his voice drop lowly.

"Are you Mrs. Belladonna?" He asked with fake concern. Dwalin frowned and softened his eyes, even though behind the show, hatred burned his eyes and red encircled his vision.

"Y-yes. M-may I help you?" She answered quickly.


	5. The Shire (part 2)

Bofur nodded. And her eyes grew. She opened the door wider and let them in.

"Mrs., we have been told you have a son?" Dwalin asked, trying to check their facts. She froze and turned to them. 

"B-Bilbo?" She whimpered. They knew. They knew of the starvation, the abuse. She prayed to Mahal they knew nothing more. "W-What do you know of my son?" Her voice quivered. He quickly glanced at Bofur, and Bofur glanced back. 

"Yes, the little one. We have been sent here by our leader informing you he will not be returning home. Not here anyway." He stated almost proudly, and straightened his back. Bofur tried to hide his smile, but Belladonna took a small step back and nodded. 

"What do you mean 'he will not be returning'? Boomed a voice from a doorway to their right. They turned, and there stood a very pissed off Mr. Bungo Baggins. Bofur stepped up and clear his throat quietly. 

"You apparently heard everything my friend has said." He said, keeping a cold glare fixed on him. He grit his teeth as Bungo smirked.

"Good riddance then, may good luck return to the Shire." Bungo laughed. Dwalin resisted cracking his knuckles, but curled his fingers into a tight fist instead. Bofur couldn't hold back his anger so easily. He stormed over and gripped his neck tightly, eyes narrowing and red haze took over his vision. He grit his teeth harder and they started to squeak.

"You give me one reason, just. One. Reason." He hissed, anger dripping off his voice like venom. Dwalin walked over and put his hand on Bofur's shoulder.

"Bofur, put him down. We need him to speak first." Bofur grumbled but let go, Bungo dropping to the ground and gasping for air. Belladonna ran over and helped him stand up, rubbing his back. 

"W-w-what do you want with him?" She cried. She didn't like them. They seemed to bitter to be here. They shouldn't be here. At all. Yet, they were. And it was her's and Bungo's fault. 

"Are you blind? You are the reason that more child is so sickly. When is the last he has eaten?" Dwalin growled lowly. "You people are disgusting. I curse you now, and hope you have no good luck." He had turned to Bungo. Without thinking (not like he had to) he raised his fist, and cracked his knuckles on Bungo's nose, throwing him backward. Bungo cried out and Belladonna screamed, kneeling beside him quickly and tries to find a handkerchief. Bofur bit his lip but suddenly busted out laughing, wrapping his arms around his stomach and bending over. Dwalin smiled but rubbed his knuckles. 

"Come on Bofur, they're not worth it." He patted his back and started for the door. Bofur stomped on Bungo's ankle. 

"Now, you will not kick again." Bofur nodded in satisfaction and followed Dwalin.


	6. Back On the Road Again

Little Bilbo slept peacefully in Thorin's furs, which laid beside a warm fire they had started. Thorin sat a few feet from him, watching him closely, making sure each breath was taken and each second was undisturbed. His chest was heavy and longed to weep, but it didn't. The air seemed thick, and the silence made it seem even thicker. He chewed the inside of his lip impatiently. Balin had came to the conclusion earlier that Bilbo wouldn't live much longer in his condition and they need to get him to Oin as soon as possible. Later in the morning they would depart from the Shire, hopefully forever but Bofur and Dwalin had not yet returned. 

They had bought clothes from a few passer bys, but even though they were for a child babe, they were still quite big on little Bilbo. He had limply allowed them to change him clothes and wrap his major wounds. Balin had tears in his eyes, remembering the scars that laid across his skin. Everywhere. The were rough and ragged, but some were smoother, like a pocket knife. It sickened him and Thorin. Crushed them.

 

Soon, Bofur and Dwalin appeared on the road ahead, and soon sat down near Thorin and Balin. Dwalin had a small scratch along his jaw, and Bofur had a bruise forming on one of his knuckles. They saw Bilbo and smiled, but then turned their attention away.

"Did you find his parents?" Balin asked quietly, Thorin wondering the same. Dwalin smile faded and he formed a tight fist with his hand. 

"Yes. His mother was worried at first, but she had her priorities. His father was annoying, claiming him like a piece of land. We got 'em to change his minds." He smirked and glanced at Bofur.

"The others had heard the commotion, and put up a fight, but we got 'em." Bofur added, nodding proudly. Thorin didn't like it, because it might cause war, but hobbits aren't war creatures. They weren't made for it. He smiled softly, just a small smile, but it lifted his spirits a little. Little. Little Bilbo. He was their's now. All their's. Then it hit him. Bilbo hadn't said a single word, and he didn't have a label.

"What is his name?" Thorin softened his voice, so it wouldn't wake him. Bofur and Dwalin thought a moment, but then Dwalin answered,

"His mother said his name was Bilbo." 

"Bilbo?" Balin asked, to confirm his answer. Dwalin nodded. Then, they looked at little Bilbo, who was deep in slumber. He was going to be happy. He was going to smile and get more meat on his bones. Yes, little Bilbo was going to be happy.


	7. Follow The Frozen Dirt Road.... (part 1)

Thorin awoke with the sun, sitting up as it began to appear over the ridge. The others were still peacefully asleep, all beside little Bilbo. He sat with his back to the dead ambers, watching the sunrise. It seemed to intrigue him. Thorin smiled and stood, walking over and sitting beside him a few moments afterward. In a soft voice, he asked,

"Do you always watch the sunrise, my little one?" Bilbo looked up at him, but without any emotion, he nodded. He looked back to the sunrise, and sighed softly. It crushed Thorin to hear him. He was determined to make Bilbo happy, one way or another. Thorin reached out slowly, and gathered little Bilbo's small frame into his hands, then set him in his lap. Sure, Bilbo was a hobbit, but that couldn't stop them for raising him as a dwarf. He started to braid Bilbo's long and wavy hair. It was dirty, but the braids would keep his hair out of his face until they could give Bilbo a proper bath with soothing spices and herbs. But alas, that would have to wait. 

Balin woke up next, and shook awake Dwalin and Bofur. He held a finger to his lips, and nodded towards Thorin and Bilbo. They looked at them and smiled. To them all, it was strange to have such a small, unhealthy, quiet child. Energetic Fili and Kili back at Erebor was his complete opposite, and they had no way of knowing how old little Bilbo was. So far, Bilbo hadn't spoken, and had made no sign of talking soon. 

Thorin tied off the ends of the long braids with string. He looked at the others sadly. Balin slowly stood and looked around at them. 

"We should be going if we wish to make the trip short, which we do." He reminded them. 

"Shall we be off then?" Bofur asked, looking at Thorin. He looked at Bofur, then at little Bilbo and nods. 

"Yes." 

 

They gathered their few things and started to walk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such short chapters guys, school's pretty fuckin shitty but i try. Come weekend, I'll write a big chapt. Promise guys. if you guys have any ideas, that would be greatly appreciated ;)


	8. Follow The Frozen Dirt Road.... (part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i got this idea particially from a comment (thank you) and from listening to Celtic music at 22:30. it helps to read it with 2 hours of celtic music on youtube.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one small note: Butterbur was the innkeeper in the book Fellowship of the Ring, but knowing this is 61 years before that i didn't know what to name him, so im making it a family owned business.

They walked along the frozen road, the ground straining their joints and wind nipping at their cheeks. However, they took no notice, for they kept their eyes on little Bilbo. With each mile, his grew wider with curiosity. He silently refused to be carried, so he wobbled along beside them, stopping to stroke strange looking flowers and what not. Travelers that were on the same road stopped to look at the pity, yet humorous sight. Little Bilbo seemed to draw people's attention rather quickly, whether it be his looks or actions to the new world. It was a world he had never seen, it seemed to go on forever, even though in reality it was just a few miles from the Shire. The world seemed so strange and dangerous, yet instead of being scared at the thought of new, the Middle Earth seemed so beautiful and rich in everything great. Perhaps the only thing that terrified him was the fact that the people on which they passed by were so large, making them moving mountains to little Bilbo.

It was also a new side of him that the others saw. It was a more beautiful and sweet side. He didn't seemed bothered that he was underfed immensely and scar-ed. Nothing seemed to bother him really, beside if anyone besides Thorin got close. Besides his condition, he now walked with his back straighter, and shoulders pulled back, as if he knew he couldn't be hurt by another again. It brought smiles to their faces, the innocent side of such a neglected child. The sweet delicacy warmed their hearts, blocking out the harsh weather. 

It was around late noon, when they got to Bree. Thorin knocked loudly, but lightly on the gate and spoke with the gates-men. Soon enough, the heavy door swung open and they walked inside. Bree was but a stopping post, but a decent one nonetheless. It was gloomy, and depressing in sight almost, but it gave good enough food and a nice bed to rest on. They walked along the road to the inn, and went inside. Bilbo, being strangely shy in an enclosed space, went over to Thorin, who graciously picked him up. He yawned, and soon his eyelid drooped. This made them smile even more, including the desk clerk Butterbur, who kindly gave them rooms to board. 

In his room, Thorin sat Bilbo on the bed gently, and called Balin over. Balin got out more medic supplies and walked over to the bed. Very gently, he helped Thorin slip off Bilbo's tunic and slowly unwrapped the now dirty bandages. Little Bilbo dozed off and on as they dabbed alcohol on the already healing gashes. Thorin stroked his hair gently, and whispered comforting nothings into his ear whenever he winced in pain. It seemed to sooth him, to be paid attention to. After a while, Balin gently wrapped his wounds again with fresh gauze. By then scrawny Bilbo was fast asleep, and Thorin laid him down in the bed slowly.

 

The sun was rising when Bofur opened his eyes that morning. He looked down at his hands and smiled, then once again started to work on a little wooden horse. The others seemed to be still asleep, so he had to keep quiet but that didn't made any difference. He loved making toys, but making one for Bilbo, it had to be special, after all Bilbo probably hasn't even held a toy in his life. Later one he might make him a cart to go with the horse, but he didn't want to bombard the child. 

Little Bilbo snuggled into the bed, the warmth spreading over him and making him smile softly. That feeling was back, it had been for a while now. It was the feeling that came that made his shoulders seem lighter and his chest looser making it easier to breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this are sorta random questions but do you guys think i'd be a good author? do any of you guys know the best way to tell you parents you're almost sure you have social anxiety disorder?


	9. Erebor

The company walked up to the gates of the magnificent Erebor. Bilbo's neck ached, his head thrown far back. He gaped in awe of the gigantic kingdom. It was beautiful, it's gates towering over them as Thorin scooped him up into his arms. Thorin smiled as little Bilbo's eyes widen while he looked around the enormous walls and caverns. He had never seen, nor knew anything like this ever existed. How could it exist with him knowing? He was just a little lad, never even been out of the Shire. One thing was for sure, he didn't want to go back. At all. 

Erebor seemed so much larger than it did from outside the gorgeous gates. Fili and Kili stood near Thorin's throne. Squinting, they may have seen Bilbo, but of course they didn't squint. Thorin handed Bilbo over to Balin, who took him gladly. Bilbo looked over the bridge a little, to snuggle into Balin shoulder quickly, afraid of the heights. Thorin picked up Fili with his left arm and Kili with his right, hugging them both. 

"Uncle Thorin! I got another bug!" Fili screamed in his ear. His little shrill voice rung loudly. Thorin grit his teeth at the sound but smiled shortly after. Fili, only 8 was obsessed over bugs, or anything else that crawled or slid, or other insects things. Kili, at age 5 was still only into biting or things he could eat. 

"Hi Uncle Thorin. What's that?" he shyly pointed over to Bilbo. Thorin look at the small Hobbit, then back at them. 

"He is your new little brother, but he is small and weak, so you must watch over him. Promise?" The two little boys nodded. Kili wrinkled his nose and shook his head.

"He doesn't have a beard Uncle, or shoes." he crossed his arms. Thorin chuckled and set them down, putting a large hand on each of their already broad shoulders. He sighed softly and spoke. 

"No, he does not have a beard, nor will he ever have one. He doesn't wear shoes because he does not need to. He is different from us yes, but you are now brothers. He doesn't understand or know about dwarves but he will with time. You will help me teach him. Alright?" The small dwarves nodded and Fili bit his lip.

"Does he have a name?" he asked. Thorin nodded.

"His name is Bilbo."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for such a long wait, school was such a killer but now its over. I just have survive 8th grade and so forth, bummer. Thanks for the tips and complements though. :)


	10. The Three Boys

Soon after living in Erebor for about three weeks, Bilbo took on the boys' personalities. He smiled and giggled with them as they stole food from the kitchen or stayed up late into the night telling stories of Durin. Fili liked him especially, for he liked the bugs Fili always found. To Kili, Bilbo was a little brother whom he could protect and teach as Fili did to both of them. There were places that all three of them could not visit, such as the mass vault of gold and diamonds. They were not allowed to venture deep into the mountain for fear of them getting hurt. Fili and Kili loved Bilbo, but still found him a bit strange, being so different in size and looks from them and the other dwarf children. Kili found the fact Bilbo could move around as silent as a feather most exciting meaning they could steal food easier. 

Bilbo didn't mind the boys either. He loved them just as much as they did him. They were nice, and caring, nothing like the other little hobbits back in the Shire. The boys let him sleep with them whenever he had nightmares. He loved them. 

Ever since him and Thorin had met, the only word little Bilbo had said was warmth. He had giggled and laughed, but hadn't muttered another word since. The dwarves appreciated the silence, not having to answer constant questions but they found it strange.

 

Bombur carried a big pot of half ready soup over to the table that stood in the middle of the gigantic kitchen. Bombur was well known for his cooking, but he didn't seem to notice the little hobbit that scrambled around his legs with a loaf of bread and a jar of jam in his now chubby arms. He ran out of the kitchen, to a space under the staircase that swept to the right. Fili and Kili smiled greatly as they saw him. 

"YES!" They cheered. Fili took the loaf of bread and ripped it into 3 large pieces. He handed one piece to Bilbo and another to Kili. Little Bilbo broke open the jar and they passed it around, dipping in their bread. Silently they ate, smiling mischievously. 

 

After supper, who Fili and Kili struggled to finish their food, Dwalin walked with Bilbo to his room. The little one was very tired, and swayed as he walked. Dwalin smiled and rubbed his small back gently, careful of the white scars. 

"Dwalin?" The little one asked, which made him take a couple steps back. Bilbo had never spoke, besides once. Nevertheless, Dwalin knelt down beside him.

"Yes, Bilbo?" 

"Why do the Elders look at me?" 

"You are different. We are dwarves, and you are a little hobbit. Some of the elders didn't know hobbits, or halflings even existed. It's something you, my boy, will have to live with. They don't understand why hobbits not need of shoes, or are so hungry. They don't understand how hobbits could be so cruel to their children. Little Bilbo, you are a very little being. Even as a hobbit you are small. They don't see that. They see you as dead wait. But you, you Bilbo, have a great mind." He pointed to Bilbo's forehead. " You think better than any other of the dwarven and I think that's amazing. You are amazing and never forget that. Bilbo, you have pure hobbit blood in you, not an ounce of dwarf. Use that, show them. You are here for a reason." He kissed his forehead gently and hugged him tight. Bilbo smiled and leaned into the touch.   
Slowly, he pulled away and walked to his room. Dwalin stood where he was, smiling and looking out after him. Thorin appeared from around a corner and smiled, having heard the entire conversation. He hugged Dwalin, whispering a "Thank you" into his ear.


End file.
